I Just Want to Check Something
by SlytherinPrince721
Summary: Takes place in HBP. Harry goes to spy on Malfoy on the train, but he gets more than he bargained for (in more ways than one). Explicit/dirty Drarry. (Harry/Draco). Twist ending. One-shot. Please excuse any errors. I don't own any of the characters, etc. As always, all rights belong to Queen J.K. Rowling. For entertainment purposes only.


WARNING! This fic contains detailed and graphic sexual encounters between two men, and disturbing content (i.e. suggestive hints of Malfoycest). If this sort of thing offends you, turn away NOW. If not, please enjoy!

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In all the commotion Draco noticed something white flash up in the luggage rack. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the now empty spot.

"What're you staring at, darling?" Parkinson asked as she resumed brushing his golden forelock with her freshly manicured nails.

"Nothing," he said in a distracted voice. Malfoy sat up, still staring at the now fully invisible Harry, and turned abruptly toward his cronies.

"Get out," he demanded. "All of you."

"Wha-?!" Goyle exclaimed, almost choking on the cauldron cake he was stuffing down his throat.

"Get out. Leave – _now!_ "

He pushed Crabbe up hard and threw him out the door, his wide figure barely fitting through the sliding glass as he was tossed out into the hallway with a large _thump!_

"What the bloody hell's the matter with you, Malfoy?!" Zabini shouted at him. "Pissed you weren't invited to Slughorn's lunch, are you?"

"Yeah, right," he said sarcastically, as if he were above such ridiculous things as special luncheons with old fat has-been teachers. "Look, just leave me alone for a moment. I need to check something."

Zabini gave him a dirty look, his mouth open with exasperation; Goyle's brow furrowed as if it were taking him quite a while to comprehend the situation.

"And where exactly are we supposed to go?" Zabini stood up tall, signaling that he wasn't going to be pushed out of his own carriage.

"I don't care! Go find some idiot first-years to beat up!"

"Yeah, get outta here guys," Pansy cooed softly. "We need some, ehm, alone time." She winked and smiled slyly. "Maybe, ten… no, better make it twenty minutes," she said, chuckled to herself.

"You get out too," Malfoy said coldly.

"What?!" Pansy was taken aback. Her face was a mixture of shock and hurt. Harry couldn't help but snigger silently to himself under the cloak.

"I already told you, I just want to check something," Malfoy told her sternly.

After staring at him a moment more, she reluctantly got up and made for the door.

"Well, you won't be getting any of this" – she pointed to her chest and groin – "anytime soon!"

With that she turned abruptly on her heel and stormed out of the carriage, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. Malfoy stared at the two remaining Slytherins.

"Well?" he said impatiently as neither of them made any effort to leave.

Zabini sighed. "It's no use, Goyle. Let's just go."

He got up to leave and as they both squeezed through the door, Malfoy heard Zabini say faintly to Goyle, "Looks like someone's on their period."

Goyle snorted loudly, and the two of them headed down the hallway, both almost tripping over Crabbe, who was still lying facedown on the floor in front of the compartment and looked as though he could not for the life of him figure out how to get back up.

Draco slid the door shut and drew the shades tight. He walked back to his seat and bent down to inspect his luggage. Harry's heart pounded. This was it; Malfoy was about to reveal, unknowingly to Harry, what he was up to. He stood back up slowly, still with his back towards Harry. Then, his cool, drawling voice rang out, "I know you're in here Potter."

He whipped around and shouted _Accio Cloak!_ before Harry had any chance of grabbing it. The cloak whipped off him and straight into Malfoy's hand. Harry felt incredibly self-conscious of the awkward crouched position he was in on the luggage rack; he felt like a cornered animal. Malfoy scoffed and snickered quietly to himself as he stared straight into Harry's eyes. Harry felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Well, look at you, Famous Harry Potter. Crouched in the corner like the pathetic rat you are."

Harry cheeks grew hot with anger. He leapt from the luggage rack and lunged at Malfoy, seizing a fistful of his button-up and pushing him down onto the seat.

"Shut up Malfoy!" Harry snarled, getting in his face.

He saw Malfoy wince and then he made to shove Harry off him.

"Ge'off you pathetic little – !"

But Harry was still firmly holding onto the front of Malfoy's shirt. He struggled to break free of Harry's grip, but Harry was slamming his fist into Malfoy's chest. Harry could feel Malfoy's heartbeat increasing. Malfoy growled and violently twisted his body, actually managing to slip out of his shirt and break free. He turned on Harry; his face was livid.

Harry turned quickly and stared at Malfoy, his shirt held tight in his hand, the buttons still intact. Malfoy was standing with his back toward the window, his naked chest heaving and gleaming in the soft light of the carriage lantern. Harry had never seen this much of Malfoy before, and he had never taken the time to realize just how striking Malfoy actually was. He couldn't help but stare at the subtle abs peaking through the taut pale flesh or his perfectly shaped pectorals. Tiny blonde hairs were springing from the middle of his chest, and another small trail of golden strands were leading down a place Harry was extremely embarrassed to follow. He had managed to wriggle out of his shirt while still leaving his tie on; the emerald and sliver cascading between his chest only accentuated his pale, chiseled body.

"What are you staring at, you pervert!" spat Malfoy. "Give me back my shirt!"

Harry hadn't realized just how long he had been staring at Malfoy. His mouth had fallen open and he could feel saliva tease the corners of his lips. He swallowed hard and backed away quickly as Malfoy made to grab his shirt back.

Harry fell back on the seat as Malfoy leaped on top of him. He pinned him down and wrestled the shirt out of his hand. Malfoy's face was only inches away from Harry's; he could feel hot breath on his face as Malfoy retrieved his belongings. As he pinned Harry down, Harry felt something hard press into his thigh, and he was quite certain it wasn't Malfoy's magic wand. Harry flushed scarlet and looked up into Malfoy's pointed face. He still looked furious, but had something subconsciously turned him on?

Harry shoved Malfoy off him and he thudded onto the floor, but not before he grabbed Harry's tie. It tightened around his neck, choking him and pulling him to join Malfoy on the floor. Harry choked and thrashed, clutching desperately at his neck to loosen the tie. He felt a hand grab the neck of the tie and yank it sharply. It loosened and Harry rolled onto his hands and knees, gulping for air.

"Thanks," he panted, looking up at Malfoy. Malfoy looked down at him in disgust, then he kicked him sharply in the ribs. Harry let out a howl of pain and clutched his side.

"That's for my father," Malfoy growled at him. "And I didn't save you –" Malfoy made a snorting noise at this, "because you're the Dark Lord's. I'm sure he'd be pretty pissed if he found out you were killed by a _tie_. Famous Harry Potter, killed by a piece of fabric! How pathetic!"

Malfoy burst into laughter. Harry looked up through his watering eyes and noticed the generous knob in Malfoy's pants, emphasized by the shadows cast in the dim light and eager to erupt from its zippered prison. Harry could just imagine how badly he could physically hurt Malfoy at this very moment. Malfoy was so distracted by his own cleverness he would never see it coming. But was Harry really _that_ mean? Before Harry could make a decision, however, Malfoy stopped laughing and was staring at him. He seemed to have noticed Harry's lingering eyes, and he blushed bright red.

An awkward silence fell in the carriage. For a long time Harry and Draco stared at each other; Harry desperately willing himself to not ogle Malfoy's protuberance. Harry stood up, not taking his eyes off Malfoy. Malfoy made no attempt to put his shirt back on, but just stood there, half-naked and sweating slightly. Harry watched a small bead of sweat drip from the top of Malfoy's forehead and fall down his face, continuing to descend down his neck, chest and abs, and finally disappear into the fabric of his waistband. Malfoy noticed Harry staring at him and shifted uncomfortably in place.

Abruptly he broke the silence. "Look Potter, I don't know why you're spying on me, but I really need you to leave now."

He was staring at the floor as he said it. His cheeks flushed and he subconsciously brushed the front of his pants with his hand, and Harry understood what he meant.

"I can help you with that."

The words slipped out of Harry's mouth before he knew what he was saying. Malfoy glanced up, wide-eyed. He didn't say anything but stared at Harry in shock. Harry slowly dropped to his knees in front of Malfoy, heat rising up into both their faces. Harry had no idea what was compelling him to do this, but he couldn't stop. He thought that Malfoy might stop him, but he just stood there, his mouth agape and silver eyes wide with astonishment but with no desire to impede him. He awkwardly reached a shaking hand up and brushed the swelling lump. Malfoy baulked slightly but stayed put. Harry hands trembled as he unbuttoned Malfoy's pants. He was both disgusted and excited at the same time.

He slowly began pulling down the zipper and could see a mass of flaxen curls peaking out. Harry looked up into Malfoy's face; it was pleading. Harry had never done anything like this before. He slowly tugged Malfoy's pants down, and could see a bit of pale flesh about to pop free. Harry shut his eyes tight; he didn't want to see it.

Taking a deep, rattling breath, Harry yanked Malfoy's pants down farther, then blindly brought his hand up, groping around for the appendage. His hand ran into a hard, stiff rod. He could feel the slight ridges of the veins eager beneath the smooth skin. It jerked upwards at his touch, and he heard Malfoy let out a soft moan. He shifted his hand up and found the thick bulb at the top. He moved his thumb over the top of the shaft, feeling the sodden, mountainous head rise and fall as he made small circles with his finger. Malfoy sobbed in blissful agony.

Harry's heart was pounding. Malfoy began to make small bucks with his hips; he was desperate. Harry shifted forward and his lips slowly met a soft, round tip. It was already damp from the preluding excitement. Harry didn't know what he should do. (Well he did, but he didn't like the idea of it.) Harry kissed the head, and then suckled on it. Malfoy groaned from the back of his throat. This wasn't too bad, thought Harry. He licked the tip, then moved his tongue down the stem, feeling the bumpy veins like braille. He took his hand and cradled the two lumps at the base. Malfoy gasped, grabbing Harry's palm and pushing it tighter around his scrotum.

"Fingers… inside…" Malfoy whined.

 _Fingers inside? Inside what?_ Harry didn't understand what he meant. Malfoy didn't _have_ a place to put fingers in, and fingers clearly wouldn't fit into his urethra. Malfoy reached down and snatched Harry's index and middle fingers, shifting them around his thigh towards his hind end.

It hit Harry like a ton of bricks. _He wants me to shove my fingers up there?!_ He was shocked. That was the last thing he expected out of Malfoy, all things considered. Malfoy's growl brought him back into the present. Harry opened his eyes for the first time. The sight was one Harry could only imagine.

There, right in front of him, was one of the largest, ungodly things Harry had ever seen. The pallid spear loomed in front of his eyes, its milky bulb dripping with anticipation, and two perfectly curved peaches at its roots, surrounded by the small, curling forest of beige coils. Harry couldn't move; Malfoy didn't speak, but again motioned Harry's fingers toward his exit. Harry looked into Malfoy's watery eyes and drooling, gaping mouth. It was a bit pathetic, and Harry liked that.

With a shaky sigh, Harry took his two fingers into his mouth, greasing them with spit for easier entry. He wrapped his arm around Malfoy and found the soft, wrinkled skin by the opening. He pushed the skin away slowly, easing his fingers inside. He was a tad surprised; it wasn't as tight as he'd thought. Malfoy whimpered as he pushed his fingers in deeper. When he got the first knuckles in, Malfoy grabbed the back of Harry's neck and drove it back towards his growth. Harry obediently opened his mouth and wrapped it around the head, letting his tongue round and form against it. For reasons unknown, he felt more confident now. Maybe it was the satisfaction of knowing he had Malfoy's pleasure in the palm of his hand (quite literally), and he could take it away in an instant. He was the one with all control, and he felt something inside him laugh maliciously.

He drove his mouth down the shaft, almost gagging as the peak bounced against his uvula. Malfoy's moans became exceedingly high-pitched the more Harry moved his mouth up and down the thickness, and he began shoving his fingers farther up Malfoy.

"Yes… Oh Wizard God! Please, don't stop!" Malfoy wailed, arching his back and slightly squatting down into Harry's hand, while thrusting his pelvis forward.

The fingers had now almost completely disappeared inside him. Harry felt Malfoy's orifice shutter, begging for more. Harry raised his ring finger and worked it inside, joining its brothers in the increasingly strained compartment. It was getting tighter in there. Malfoy howled in delight. Harry retracted his fingers, then shoved them back inside as hard as he could. Malfoy made a sound Harry had never heard before in his life. Harry sniggered internally; he was enjoying this as much as Malfoy, but for different reasons.

The rod slid in and out between Harry's wet lips, increasingly picking up speed as Malfoy joined in. A low growl rumbled in the back of Harry's throat, and Harry could feel the inside of his mouth growing damper; it was beginning to overflow, and he felt the wetness start to dribble down his chin. Harry pushed his fingers deep into Malfoy, syncing them with the rhythm of the front prong. Malfoy squealed as Harry's fingers explored the deep caverns of his pit, fondling the smooth, clean ridges inside. Malfoy's indulgent prattling began again: "Uhhh yesss! Yes! Please… More, Father, more!"

Harry stopped dead. Mouth still wrapped around Malfoy (though wider now), Harry stared up into his face. Malfoy had turned pink; his chest was heaving and his whole body glistening with sweat; his platinum hair damp and tousled.

Another awkward silence fell between them. Harry felt Malfoy's cavity squeeze tight around his still-inserted phalanges. He could hardly move them now.

"Did you just say…?" Harry began.

"No!" Malfoy recanted, a little too quickly.

Harry wriggled his fingers loose of their fleshy prison, but that was clearly the wrong thing to do. That was it for Malfoy; he had gone over the brink.

His appendage began bubbling over abundantly as he wailed, and Harry jumped back from the thick white treacle. Tear-stains streaked down Malfoy's face as he tried to hide his still-flowing shame. His prick twitched as the last bits dripped out; he looked more tragic than ever.

Harry wiped his mouth with his sleeve, still stunned by Malfoy's indiscretion. Abruptly, Malfoy lunged forward, his sodden member bobbing carelessly, and grabbed Harry. Harry shouted in surprise.

"Not a word to _anyone_! You hear me?! Nothing happened here, and if you tell, I'll kill you myself. To hell with the Dark Lord!"

His face was red with fury. Harry stood up and nodded furiously, sliding past Malfoy without a word. He ran out of the compartment, and tried to gather himself as he clumsily staggered down the hall. His mind was racing. He stopped in front of his compartment, but didn't go in. He stood outside, closing his eyes and taking deep breathes. He calmed down after a while. Despite the disturbing thought, at least Malfoy had a father whom he loved and who loved him (to what extent, he could hardly imagine).

"Harry?"

It was Hermione's voice. Harry opened his eyes and saw her and Ron standing in the doorway.

"You okay, mate?" Ron asked. "You were gone for a while, we were starting to get worried. What happened?"

"Nothing," Harry replied, smiling at the both of them. "Everything's fine."

…

Throughout the rest of the year, Malfoy either ignored Harry, or treated him as he always had in front of his friends. Occasionally, Harry would find Pansy Parkinson glaring at him; did she know? Or else see Crabbe and Goyle pointing and giggling at him behind their fat, grubby fists. Ron and Hermione never asked about what happened during that train ride, but would sometimes give Harry a peculiar look, like they had an idea. Harry never encountered Malfoy like that again, although he would sometimes give Harry strange looks in class or passing in the corridor when no one was looking, tempting him to take another bite of forbidden fruit.

THE END


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